


Tightrope

by einfach_mich



Category: Teen Wolf (TV) RPF
Genre: Awkward Sexual Situations, Fluff, Hobrien, M/M, Self-Indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-24
Updated: 2012-08-24
Packaged: 2017-11-12 19:33:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/494879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/einfach_mich/pseuds/einfach_mich
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dylan always thought he hand a handle on things, but the explosive popularity of Teen Wolf and his sudden awareness of the fans sites has forced him to face the truth. Off balance and scrambling to make sense of his feelings, Dylan is teetering on the edge of what could be a personal and professional disaster. The one person he could usually count on to help him is the one person who is the cause of his confusion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tightrope

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chele681](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chele681/gifts).



> I do not know either of these talent men. This is a work of fiction, not meant to offend, upset or invade anyone's privacy. This story is just a giant piece of self indulgent silliness, meant to make Chele681 giggle and swoon. 
> 
> Thanks to echo_jewel for being a fantastic beta and cheerleader. I couldn't have done it with out you.

When he was a kid, Dylan had dreamed of joining the circus. Not to be a clown. No. It was the fearless tightrope walkers who filled him with awe and envy. He had studied it for awhile, as much as all kids do when they still believe they can be anything. Daydreaming of the day he would have the courage and calm to dance across a slender strip of rope in the sky.

Young Dylan would recite the simple rules to himself while he walked along the edge of sidewalks and teetered on tops of railings. Don't look down. Focus on where you want to be. Keep moving.

Dylan blinked back to reality when another dozen camera flashes went off, lighting up his vision and blinding him for a split second. He sighed. He might not be on the tightrope, but he was certainly in a circus. Still, those tips have come in handy.

He reminded himself of that, while he settled in for another press junket. He took a deep breath, and stared at a point at the opposite side of the room, trying to ignore the buzz of conversation filling the room and making his ears ring. It would be easier if he were moving. Sitting still has never been an easy thing for him to do. It makes him feel unsteady, like at any minute he was about to fall.

"Kiss?" Tyler offered up a foil-wrapped treat, giving Dylan an encouraging smile. "I think it's got caramel in the center."

Dylan quickly snatched up the candy, carefully peeling away the golden wrapper, and popping it in his mouth. As the smooth, sweet chocolate melted over his tongue, he made a rather undignified groan of relief.

"Good?" Tyler chuckled, his wide smile catching some of the camera flashes.

Dylan nodded and blinked instinctively, though no spots appeared in front of his eyes. Tyler yelled across the table at Holland, gesturing for more candy. She made a point of giving them an exaggerated eye roll.

Holland was always great about bringing snacks to these things, her purse filled with candy, power bars, gum and breath mints. If the venue didn't already supply bottled water, she would have packed water for everyone, too. Colton calls her "mom." While she pretends to hates it, Dylan knows she lives for it. God knows they would be lost without her, especially on days like today.

Holland dug into her purse and threw two more kisses at them. Dylan watched Tyler catch the candies with ease. Dylan gave her a wave of thanks. Holland winked in response and pointedly shifted her gaze to Tyler before returning it to Dylan. She lifted a single eyebrow in a silent question.

Dylan sighed, shook his head, already feeling his face flush a little. He lowered his eyes before he could see Holland roll her eyes in earnest. She had a right to do it. He was an idiot. A stupid, insecure pile of sexual confusion.

"You nervous, buddy?" Tyler leaned in close, his whisper sending hot air brushing over Dylan's neck.

The sound of Tyler's voice, combined with the smell of chocolate and spicy aftershave, made Dylan's head spin. Tyler was so close his body pressed against Dylan's shoulder. Dylan could feel Tyler's body heat seeping through their clothing.

Dylan found a spot on the table to focus on, and he had to remind himself to breathe. He collected himself enough to swallow the silky remains of the chocolate in his mouth and finally managed a non-committal shrug in response to Tyler's question. The smile he had hoped would look reassuring felt weak and strained.

Everyone saw Dylan as his character on the show, Stiles the Spaz. At most press events, like this one, Dylan chose to play the part of the clown. It was easier to be someone else than show just how nervous and overwhelmed he was by all this attention. It's what everyone wanted to see. Except for Tyler. He had an uncanny ability to see right through Dylan's facade. No matter how hard Dylan tried, there was no hiding from Tyler, which made things even more uncomfortable than usual.

"Don't stress, it'll be over before you know it," Tyler said, his hand settling on the back of Dylan's neck, giving a little squeeze.

Dylan's stomach did that all-too-familiar back flip it always did when Tyler touched him, or complimented him on anything. Worst of all was when Tyler looked at Dylan with that strange expression on his face. Dylan never understood what that look meant, but it never failed to make him feel exposed and uncomfortable, as if Tyler could see right through him.

"Thanks, man." Dylan nodded his head, raising his eyes from the table. He wiped the sweat from his palms onto the tablecloth.

"Don't thank me," Tyler laughed, patting Dylan's back. "Colton got a bottle of tequila."

"Shit," Dylan hissed while Tyler continued to chuckle.

Two hours later he found himself jammed into an elevator with everyone and several beefy security guards. Holland's ass wiggled against his hip, while both Tylers belted out their own rendition of some Lionel Richie song. Oddly enough they hadn't even started drinking yet.

Not that Posey drinks, at all. He isn't straight edge or anything. He just has a sensitive stomach… and a scary strict trainer who counts his calories during filming.

The doors to the elevator parted, and they all spilled into the hallway. Dylan was about to follow the crowd when two slender arms wrapped around his neck. Holland held him back, turning to give him a glossy smirk.

"We'll join you guys in a second. Dylan needs to help me get some ice," she announced, reaching out to punch the button for the sixteenth floor.

"Hurry up," Colton called to them, while he tugged at Tyler's arm.

Dylan watched Tyler's confused expression disappear behind the closing elevator doors. He looked vaguely disappointed, which is silly. Why would Tyler be disappointed? Dylan stared at the floor display above the door and tried to ignore the little voice in the back of his head that whispered about stupid shit he is NOT listening to. No.

Unlike Tyler, Dylan had no gift of insight. Hell, half the time he didn't understand his own thoughts and feelings, much less someone else's. Sure, Tyler had looked disappointed, but there were any number of logical reasons for that. Many of which had nothing to do with Dylan leaving on an elevator with a single, beautiful girl.

Which is also silly, because there's no way he and Holland would hook up. She has way better taste in men. He told himself it was just a look, nothing more. All the while his stomach did a rather impressive contortionist act with his intestines making him want to throw up or die, anything to put him out of his misery.

"Okay, spill, O'Brien," Holland demanded with a hard shove to his shoulder.

"There's nothing to say." Dylan groaned and walked over to press his face to the cool metal of the wall.

"Jesus jumped-up booty call," she complained, lightly slapping his back. "How long are you planning to dance around this thing? When even Crystal is asking me about you two, you know it's becoming painfully obvious."

"Really?" Dylan spun on his heel to confirm that she was serious and found her nodding sagely. "Fuck!"

He slid down the wall to crouch on the floor. "What am I going to do?"

It felt like the elevator was sinking instead of rising. Or maybe that was just his stomach. He was going to be sick, he just knew it.

"Dylan," Holland sighed. She grabbed his arm and yanked him back to his feet just as the elevator dinged for the sixteenth floor. She led him down the hallway to her room and dug out her keycard. "You can't go on like this."

"I know," he agreed, leaning on the doorframe while she ran the card through the reader.

"I'm being serious," she continued, pushing open the door and charging into the room.

Dylan held the door open with his body while Holland walked over to retrieve the ice bucket from her dresser. "Sooner or later something has to give, and I think you owe it to yourself to figure this out now, before – god forbid – he starts seeing someone."

Her words felt like a punch in the gut. Dylan immediately thumped his head against the door to shake loose the image from his head. There was no way he was going to still be hung up on this shit for a day longer. The thought sounded so good, almost like a resolution.

"I'll do it," he sighed, straightening up and earning a nod of approval from Holland.

"That's right, you will," she agreed. "And I'll give you the opportunity you need. Just don't blow it."

Dylan nodded while rocking on his heels, still a little nervous, but it didn't matter. If he didn't get this out tonight...well, it wouldn't kill him, but it would make work more of a nightmare. As it was he'd been walking around since Comic Con with all of these feelings tearing him up inside. That was no way to live.

It was a little past midnight when Dylan bothered to check the time. The hotel room that Tyler and Colton had been sharing was suddenly, suspiciously empty – with the exception of Dylan and Tyler who were just finishing up a heated round of Super Mario brothers.

He wasn't sure how she did it, but Holland had stayed true to her word. Now it was his turn. Dylan swallowed, hoping it would give him the push he needed to speak. Instead it made him choke on his own spit.

Dylan started violently coughing, and he dropped his controller to make a grab for his beer, which was warm and flat. He forced himself to swallow it anyway, but he couldn't help sticking out his tongue in disgust at the stale, sour flavor. At least the coughing had stopped.

"Are you okay?" Tyler was laughing softly, but there was a look of genuine concern on his face.

"Fine," Dylan croaked out, and he took another sip of the piss water to stall. It still tasted disgusting, but he had bigger things to worry about. This was not going at all like he had planned. Not that he even remotely planned anything, but he had hoped he wouldn't fuck it up this bad.

"Dylan, what's wrong, man?" Tyler's hand pressed against the back of his neck, and he had to close his eyes to fight off the urge to run for the door.

Always with the fucking touching. There was this thing about Tyler. He was always touching Dylan. Hugs, slapping his stomach, light playful punches – there was no end to the millions of ways that Tyler invaded his personal bubble. Not that Dylan didn't like it.

In fact, he hadn't even really noticed it, until recently. Until Colton started to explain to them about the fans and the gay thing. It wasn't a big deal. Dylan never really cared about that kind of thing. Gay, straight, whatever. People are people. Who cares who they sleep with.

Then he started to peek at the sites Colton and Holland would find. He saw clips of Tyler and him together. Not the stuff about their characters. That was separate, so very separate.

Tyler was nothing like Derek, so much so that sometimes when they watched the show Dylan would see them as two different people. It was surprising how his brain compartmentalized things like that – though given his current circumstances, maybe not too surprising.

It started with the footage of them at the TV Guide boat party. He couldn't remember whose idea it was to film the clip for the TCAs. He did remember that Jeff had called it playful teasing, Holland called it baiting, while Tyler had just laughed and insisted they do it. They were already keyed up from the panel, and Colton had been sneaking him sips of this really gross peach schnapps. Really, he could have blamed it on the sun and rotation of the planets, but truthfully he has always had a really hard time saying no to Tyler. That alone should have been a pretty clear sign, but Dylan wasn't so good about noticing stuff like that, at all.

At the time it seemed like silly fun, but when he watched the clip and all of the other footage of him and Tyler interacting, it seemed different. Not at first, but after seeing these moments slowed down to a crawl with paragraph after paragraph of detailed commentary, it was hard for him not to see it, too.

So many small, simple things became facts in his head: Tyler always complimenting him, always laughing at his jokes (even when they're not that funny), always touching him. All of that could be interpreted as close friendship if it weren't for the strange feeling it gave Dylan to realize it was happening.

That strange feeling that was now making his palms sweat, while Tyler frowned at him. Dylan wasn't sure how any of this worked. He had never found another man attractive. Good looking, sure. There were plenty of guys he could objectively view as good looking, but none of them had made his face flush or his dick hard. That last part had only begun to become a problem lately, but oh what a problem it was.

"I can't do this anymore." The words seemed to erupt from his mouth.

Dylan turned to look at Tyler's face, sure that he would be horrified by what he saw. Tyler tilted his head, his thick eyebrows pulling together, and sighed. It was a gesture that made Dylan feel like a kid.

"All right," Tyler said, beginning to stand. "Do you need help getting back to your room?"

"No, that's not what I-" Dylan put his hand on Tyler's thigh and tried to push him back down to the bed.

Tyler sat back down, putting his hand on top of Dylan's. He looked even more concerned. "Okay, okay."

"I'm sorry, I just I need to get this out," Dylan snapped, yanking his hand away and running it through his hair. "I can't keep this...I mean, it's probably going to fuck up everything, but I need to say it."

Tyler nodded, his expression intent. Dylan took a deep breath, shifted to the side so he could face Tyler. His thinking was that it would somehow be easier to say the words if they're eye to eye, but it was almost too much of Tyler's concentrated attention.

Dylan choked on his words. He was so going to blow this. There was just no way he could figure out how to wrap his lips around all the things he wanted – no, needed – to say. So some part of his reptile took over and forced him to just give up on words all together.

He grabbed the front of Tyler's t-shirt, twisting his fist in the fabric and yanking him closer. Their mouths smashed together in a very awkward, painful slap that wasn't remotely romantic, but it clearly communicated Dylan's thoughts. It was about as subtle as a sledgehammer – graceless and blunt. But if the slow, eager movements of Tyler's lips were any indication, it was an effective one.

Dylan was so taken by surprise by his success that he broke the kiss with a laugh. It was unbelievable. Tyler kissed him back.

"How many shots did you have?" Tyler's frown was back, but the corners of his mouth were tipped up in what would surely turn into a smile at any moment.

"I am not drunk," Dylan argued, heat quickly creeping across his face and making his ears pink.

"I beg to differ." Tyler's smile finally made an appearance, while he crossed his arms over his chest. "You just kissed me."

Dylan flinched, like he'd been stung. "And you kissed me back!"

"Because you kissed me." Tyler shrugged, as if it were an obvious logical reaction, which it could have been, Dylan supposed.

His brain followed the logic. If kissing someone back is logical, then both of them kissing is logical. But that's not exactly logical, otherwise they would have been kissing ages ago. But then Dylan would still have had to start the cycle of said kissing.

"That's a circular argument," he challenged, while his brain continued to cartwheel into ever confusing circles.

"No." Tyler sighed, leaning back on the bed and staring at the ceiling. "That's a straight line leading from your mouth to mine."

"Straight...right," Dylan groaned. This whole conversation was turning into a train wreck, and he knew it had to be his fault.

"Oh yeah, you're drunk." Tyler turned to give Dylan a smirk.

"I am no-" Dylan started to get pissed, but he stopped short and tried to collect himself. "That is off topic."

"Is it now? What is the topic again?" Tyler rolled onto his side, propping his head on his hand and giving Dylan a sympathetic nod of his head.

"I kissed...we kissed," Dylan stated, while wishing Tyler wouldn't look at him that way, because it was making his dick hard and leaving him even more confused.

"Oh, we did?" Tyler looked shocked. Fuck, he was a good actor.

"Now you're fucking with me." Dylan grumbled, putting his head in his hands.

"Only a little." Tyler chuckled softly.

Dylan could feel a warm hand wrap around his thigh and shake him gently. "Dylan, man, stop freaking out. We kissed. No big deal."

"It _is_ a big deal I'm not gay!" Dylan felt a little guilty for yelling, like there was something wrong with being gay, which there wasn't.

This wasn't about being attracted to men. It was about Dylan being attracted to Tyler. If he could only get the words out to explain it clearly.

"So, neither am I," Tyler answered, rendering Dylan's entire stress-induced freak out obsolete with a shrug.

Stunned, Dylan only stared blankly as Tyler grabbed him by the back of his neck, and pulled him down into another kiss. The difference between this kiss and their first kiss was night and day. Tyler's movements were slow and purposeful. He drew Dylan's bottom lip between his teeth and stroked with his tongue. Dylan moaned a little while his finger clawed at the bedspread beneath them. His toes curled inside his Converse, and he was sure his brain was about to boil and drip out of his ear.

Tyler finally broke the kiss, giving Dylan's bottom lip one last playful nip before releasing his hold on his neck. Dylan couldn't help but lick his bottom lip, a shudder traveling through his entire body. Tyler sat up, a smug grin on his face.

Dylan didn't know what to say or think, so he just sat in silence while Tyler got up from the bed. The rest of the room seemed to come into focus as Tyler walked toward the door. Bottles and plastic cups littered the dresser and tables. Their game controllers lay discarded on the floor. The tv ran a loop of the opening sequence of the game, casting the room in flashing shades of primary colors. All the while Dylan watched Tyler's ass move under the fabric of his skin-tight jeans.

What a brave new world he was in, where he and Tyler had just been making out! How do things change so fast? Why isn't he scared anymore?

Tyler opened the door and placed the 'do not disturb' sign on the outside doorknob before closing it again. When he turned back to face Dylan, his expression was intent, but relaxed. Just a regular night of two guys hanging out – only this time Tyler was looking at Dylan like he wanted to devour him. Dylan swallowed and was almost disappointed that his spit didn't sabotage his speech again.

"What if Colton comes back?" Dylan tried not to not scared, but the squeak in his voice fucked that up.

"He knows the code and will crash with Holland," Tyler replied with a reassuring nod.

"So you've done this before," Dylan said, surprised by how disappointed he sounded.

"No, but Colton's done it to me enough times to know the drill," Tyler reassured him with a breathy laugh.

"This is weird. Like totally weird, isn't it?" It felt like he was hyperventilating he was talking so fast.

"It's sex, it's supposed to be a little weird," Tyler said, pulling his shirt off and settling down next to Dylan on the bed.

He said it. Sex. The word was a gunshot. It made Dylan jump and jerk away from Tyler's touch.

"I don't think I could...I've never...this is really fucking new," Dylan babbled, giving Tyler an apologetic look.

"Chill out." Tyler scooped closer, wrapping his hand around the back of Dylan's neck and pulling him closer. "We don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with. If you don't like something I do just tell me to stop."

Dylan sighed, closing his eyes as their foreheads met in a gentle press of skin. He felt overheated, like his skin was too tight for his body. Especially when it came to his dick, which was throbbing and aching.

"Are you okay?" Tyler whispered, his breath brushing over Dylan's lips.

Dylan could only nod, and lick his own lips, remembering how Tyler had tasted like beer and spicy pepperoni. Those two flavors shouldn't be sexy, but on Tyler's tongue they tasted fucking amazing. Dylan was sure he was losing his mind.

"Talk to me, Dylan," Tyler nudged him a little with his forehead. "I need to hear you say you're okay with this."

Dylan took a deep breath and opened his eyes. Their faces were so close – all he could see was the intensity in Tyler's eyes. The sight was a little overwhelming.

"I am. Okay with this." It felt like a confession, like a weight lifting off his chest and setting him free. "Not that I really understand any of it, but I know I want it."

"So do I," Tyler sighed. And then they were kissing again.

Strong hands tugged Dylan's shirt over his head. Dylan struggled to steady his own shaking hands while he touched Tyler's bare chest. It was nothing like he was used to. Women were soft and pliable, while Tyler's chest felt smooth and hard. Dylan dug his fingers into the rigid muscles, trying to get a grip. Tyler groaned loudly. Dylan smiled, a little proud that he was able to get that kind of reaction from Tyler. It might be different, but Dylan decided he liked it.

Tyler eased him on his back, and it struck Dylan that they were really going to have sex. The reality left him oddly calm. It was what he wanted, yes. Though part of him wondered how best to handle this in the long term. They were friends and co-workers after all.

"Have you done this before?" Dylan's voice was shaky, and he couldn't seem to keep it calm while Tyler's warm hands slid down his stomach to rest on the front of his jeans.

"Yeah," Tyler replied, slowly unzipping Dylan's jeans and leaning down to press a kiss against Dylan's hip.

Dylan gasped, grabbing Tyler's head, forcing him to look up. "With who?"

Tyler sighed and lay down beside Dylan. "Different guys, over the years. You know." He ran his hand down Dylan's side, watching the progression of his own hand as he slid it beneath Dylan's plaid boxers and kneaded his ass.

Dylan supposed he could do the casual thing, though there was a small part of him that twisted at the thought of being like that. Not that he was sure he wanted more. He wasn't sure what the hell he wanted, other than to feel more of Tyler and to do something about his painfully hard dick.

"I actually don't," Dylan snapped, fighting the urge to moan and move into Tyler's hand. "I have no experience with guy on guy booty calls. Or whatever this is."

Tyler sighed heavily and used his free hand to make Dylan look him in the eyes. "First off, _this_ is whatever you want it to be, but you don't need to worry about figuring it out right now. All you need to do is relax, breathe and let me take your clothes off. Can you do that?"

"I guess." It was finally Dylan's turn to laugh.

"Good." Tyler smiled and yanked Dylan's pants down his legs.

"Someone's eager," Dylan said, his laughter becoming a little frantic as they both fought to get his pants off.

With one final tug, Tyler pulled the pants free of Dylan's feet, throwing them to the floor. He smiled triumphantly and nodded toward Dylan's raging hard on. "Apparently, I'm not the only one."

Dylan groaned a little, rolling over to try to cover himself, but didn't get very far. Strong hands were already pulling him back to return to lying on his back. Tyler straddled his hips and lowered his mouth to give Dylan a light kiss. Soft lips brushed against each other, and then Tyler pulled back to smile down at him.

Tyler's large hands swept over Dylan's chest. His light-colored eyes watched the slow progress of his callused palm over Dylan's bare skin. The expression on Tyler's face was that same one that always made Dylan uncomfortable. People didn't ever look at him like this, no one. Only ever Tyler.

"What?" Dylan swallowed, which didn't do anything to slow down his thundering heartbeat.

"Freckles," Tyler whispered, now using his index finger to trace invisible paths between

"Ugh, I know," Dylan sighed, flinching from Tyler's touch.

Suddenly, he was pushed down into the mattress, Tyler's hands holding his arms in a strong grip. "I like them."

Before Dylan could respond, Tyler lowered his head down, sinking his teeth into Dylan's shoulder. The sensation was electrifying. There was just no other word for it. Dylan writhed under Tyler's body. He couldn't contain what his body was feeling, and it finally erupted out of him in a long, low moan.

Tyler eased up, drawing his tongue over the tender skin and giving Dylan a soft kiss on the cheek before shifting lower. He moved so quickly, Dylan wasn't quite aware of what was happening until his dick disappeared into Tyler's mouth.

"Jesus fuck!" Dylan choked, slamming his head back into the mattress.

Tyler's tongue performed super human oral acrobatics that left Dylan wondering if this was a side effect of playing a werewolf, or if Tyler had seriously under sold how much experience he had with other men. Dylan was no virgin. He had had his dick in a lot of mouths in his time, but nothing any girl had done to him could compare with what was happening at the moment.

He tried to gasp out questions, to figure out what kind of sexual kung fu Tyler had got going on, but every word came out sounding like a gargled string of vowels. So he gave up, choosing instead to rise up on his elbows and watch while Tyler's lips slowly slid down to kiss his pelvis, while Tyler looked right back at Dylan. Even with a dick in his mouth, Tyler had that same look on his face and, finally, in the weirdest moment even Dylan found the right word to describe it. _Reverence_.

It was the way you would look at someone you see as a valuable and precious gift. The realization settled like a heaviness against his chest pushing back down to the mattress. He didn't know what to do with the revelation.

That was the moment that he came, breathless, overwhelmed, and completely incapable of controlling the startled scream that ripped free of his mouth. Dylan's hips jerked, sending him deeper down Tyler's throat, and he immediately tried to pull back. Tyler gripped his hips, holding him in place and swallowing around Dylan's still spasming dick.

It was too much. Dylan cried out and pushed against Tyler's forehead to get away. Tyler released him and Dylan collapsed, the last of his energy spent. His brain was incapable of doing anything more than run a stream of profanity in a loop that slow-slipped from his lips in a whisper.

Tyler moved up the bed and collapsed next to him with a sigh. He threw an arm over Dylan and kissed his shoulder.

It should have felt weird, cuddling with Tyler. But it wasn't as if they hadn't snuggled like this in the past. Only back then they weren't naked. And Dylan's dick hadn't just been in Tyler's mouth. But that part didn't change the fact that it still felt comfortable lying there together, and Dylan decided to focus on that feeling. Fuck the rest of the questions for now

"Dylan?" Tyler nudged the side of Dylan's face with his nose and gave him another kiss. "You still with me?"

"Barely," Dylan replied with a weak smile.

"Good," Tyler said with a wide grin and another kiss. "Now get some sleep."

"What about you?" Dylan tried to gesture toward Tyler's hips, but he couldn't effectively move his arms or even raise them off the bed.

Tyler laughed and shook his head, grabbing a corner of the bedspread and pulling it over them. "There'll be time for that later. That is, unless you want this to be a one-time thing, which is fine, too."

"No. I mean, I want there to be a later," Dylan insisted, even as his eyelids started to lower on their own. "Lots of laters. Many, many, many laters. For both of us."

"So do I," Tyler whispered, and he turned out the light.

Dylan came back to awareness with an itchy blink of his eyes. Sunlight was trying to pry its way under his eyelids, and he was not inclined to let it succeed. He pulled the bedspread over his head with a hoarse grumble and rolled over into a solid lump of warm flesh.

"Watch those bony elbows," a familiar, equally groggy voice said, startling Dylan and shocking the last of the sleep from his mind.

"Tyler?" Dylan pulled back the covers, flooding his vision with bright light and promptly yelped at the pain as it shot through his head.

How much beer had he drunk last night? He sat up, rubbing his face and suddenly realizing he was naked. _Naked_?

"I think we both need some water," Tyler said, rising up from where he had been lying beside Dylan, and padding over to the mini-fridge in nothing but a pair of jeans.

The events of the previous night came flooding back to Dylan in a rush that left him blushing and scrambling to cover himself. It had all seemed so easy at night, after some beers, but in the light of day he felt weird. Tyler turned back to see Dylan huddled in the bedspread and chuckled.

"It's cool, man. We don't have to ever talk about this again if you don't want to," Tyler said with a heavy sigh, setting a bottle of water in Dylan's lap and taking a seat at the head of the bed.

Dylan looked at the bottle sweating clear droplets of condensation and chewed his already painfully dry bottom lip. "Is that what you want?"

"Nope," Tyler answered, taking a drink from his bottle and continued. "But what I want is moot, if you're not into this."

"I didn't say I wasn't into it," Dylan snapped, turning to face Tyler. "You're the one who said we should forget it."

Tyler laughed, long and hard, while he set his bottle down on the side table. Dylan was about to ask him what was so funny, when Tyler leapt up and tackled Dylan down to the bed. They collapsed in a heap of bedspread, laughter and Dylan's flailing limbs.

"What the hell?" Dylan managed to yelp before Tyler silenced him with a kiss.

Most of Dylan's frustration melted away the moment their lips met. His awkwardness bled away, leaving nothing but heat. Tyler was already tearing the bedspread away from Dylan's body, his hands eagerly roaming over Dylan's bare skin, mouth quickly following.

"Wait," Dylan gasped, pushing Tyler off and unbuttoning his jeans. "It's your turn."

"If you insist," Tyler chuckled, leaning back to watch Dylan open up and work his jeans down his legs.

The denim hit the floor and they both fell silent, while Dylan took in the sight of Tyler's nude body. Dylan licked his lips and idly wondered why Tyler wasn't naked all the time. Who would argue with seeing that every minute of every day? Dylan sure as hell wouldn't.

He shifted on his heels, tilted his head and tried to figure out the logistics. It wasn't like Dylan didn't know how sex between two guys worked. He had access to the internet and was a curious teenage boy at one time. Still, the actual doing part was kind of freaking him out.

"You're freaking out," Tyler said with a smirk and a raised eyebrow.

"Not even," Dylan insisted, shaking his head and rubbing his hands together, because that's totally what people did before they had sex.

"Okay, Mister Miyagi," Tyler replied, actually snorting at his own joke while his head flopped back on the bed.

"Do not ever quote the Karate Kid while we are naked again!" Dylan tried to sound stern, but his own laughter ruined the effect, and Tyler laughed harder in response.

"Fine!" Dylan gave up and laid down next to Tyler, sighing. "I've never done this before, and I'm not really sure where to start."

"It's okay," Tyler said, once he had caught his breath again. "Let's start with something you know. I assume you've jerked off before."

"Of course," Dylan said, while Tyler took hold of his hand and guided it toward his still-hard dick.

Dylan's fingers lightly brushed the incredibly smooth skin and Tyler gasped. He snapped his teeth shut on the sound, and carefully wrapped Dylan's hand around his dick. Dylan didn't need any further instruction. He immediately tightened his grip and began to slowly stroke up and down.

Tyler let out a low hiss that sounded like a "yes," but Dylan was too intent on what he was doing to really hear it. He scooted closer to Tyler, shifting his body to get a better angle and quicken his pace. Tyler's hips began to lift with each down stroke and Dylan smiled at the response. He glanced at Tyler's face and nearly blew his own load at the sight.

Tyler's head was thrown back, eyes closed with tiny beads of sweat decorating his face. His arms were stretched out on either side of his body, hands gripping the sheets so hard the veins in his arms were practically popping out of his skin. It was unbelievable to Dylan, that he was making Tyler this out of control.

Dylan was so shocked by the sight he faltered and lost his rhythm. "Shit!"

Tyler opened his eyes, but he didn't seem to care about Dylan's fuck up. He smiled, grabbed Dylan's head and pulled him down into a kiss. If it was hard for him to focus while looking at Tyler, it was a million times harder when they were kissing. Dylan finally had to pull away, giving Tyler a soft nip on his stubbly chin before pushing him back down and going back to work.

Dylan sat up, giving himself better leverage and repositioning his grip. This was kind of like masturbating, but also completely different. He was learning as he went, figuring out how Tyler liked it. The speed was different. Tyler also seemed to like a tighter grip and once Dylan started playing with Tyler's balls it was over.

Tyler started stuttering and shaking. Dylan just increased his pace. On the upstroke he gave the head a gentle squeeze while still kneading Tyler's balls. Just like that Tyler came in a long low groan, spraying all over his stomach and Dylan's hands.

Dylan grabbed his wrinkled t-shirt off the floor and used it to wipe his hands and clean Tyler's stomach. He dropped it back on the floor, making a mental note to ask Tyler to borrow a shirt later. Dylan lay down beside Tyler, a smug grin on his face. Tyler wiped the sweat from his face as he struggled to catch his breath. When he finally caught sight of Dylan's smirk, he began to laugh.

"So..." Dylan said, propping himself up on his elbow.

"What?" Tyler stared back at him, still flushed and a little breathless.

"How did I do?" Dylan tried to look exasperated, but it was hard to be convincing with such a big smile on his face.

"Not bad," Tyler replied with a smirk of his own, and he promptly got hit in the face with a pillow. "AH! Okay, you did great!"

"Damn ri-" Dylan was about to go off when someone started banging on the door.

"Are you two done fucking? I need to get some clothes!" Colton yelled through the door while Dylan stared at Tyler with a look of horror.

Tyler just laughed, pulling Dylan into his arms and yelled back. "Go borrow some of Holland's clothes!"

"Shit, man," Dylan hissed into Tyler's shoulder. "What are we...I mean how are...crap."

"Relax," Tyler said, tightening his hold on Dylan. "We can deal with whatever happens, together."

Dylan raised his eyes to look at Tyler's earnest expression. "So, does that mean we're _together_?"

"If you want us to be," Tyler replied, his expression turning unreadable.

"I do," Dylan said quickly. "I mean, it's crazy, but yeah. I totally do."

"So do I," Tyler sighed, looking relieved. The pounding on the door grew louder. "I told you, Colton, I'm busy fucking my boyfriend. Come back later."

The knocking suddenly stopped. Dylan and Tyler could hear muffled chatter through the door, followed by some distinctly female laughter, then, finally, blessed silence.

"So, this is for real, right?" Dylan mumbled into Tyler's chest.

"As real as it gets," Tyler replied, lightly running his hand down Dylan's back.

"I'm glad it's you," Dylan said, looking up to meet Tyler's eyes.

Tyler leaned in to press their foreheads together, and smiled. "Ditto."


End file.
